Somewhere along the line, losing sight of context. What happens when you don't have the end in mind? Walking through the city nowadays gives me itchy feet, so instead I play this game where I try to narrow the scope of my vision, eliminate the peripherals so that I could be in Chicago, or Memphis, or Marfa, or anywhere, really.

I watched a documentary where a famous director describes writing like ironing a shirt - how you start at the collar and iron down a few inches, and then you start over from the top and smooth out everything you've done, and then the wrinkles a bit further down.... I am trying to rethink how to frame and unframe everyday experience, how to fathom/reconcile being grounded in multiple universes, constructing strategies for defining and finding satisfaction.

Non-academic life means that there are no longer any arbitrary or logical limitations on most things, and the trickiest thing so far has been to try to set up constructs to sustain a sense of inquisitiveness and exploration, consistently trying to remain firmly grounded in the realm of comparison and contrast, and to find a new way of operating outside of white walls and compensated curiosity.

Mostly, this means that I'm trying to prioritize different things: traveling, and doing a lot of walking and reading, and performing acts of addition and subtraction, and formulating better methods for mental note-taking. Basically, it boils down to trying to exercise tiny shifts in perspective. I'm becoming more at ease with the idea of taking a lot of photographs without much connectivity or conceptual intent, relying on the fundamental understanding that it comes from the same fundamental source - of circumstantial matters, of things that matter.

Sharpening the saw.